


Roasting In the Oven of War

by Akumaloligirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depressing, Drabble, Drabbles, Eerie, Gen, Gore, Horror, Incest, Multi, One-Shot, Pain, Rape, Sad, Self Harm, Self-Harm, Suicide, Trigger Warnings, mentioned only - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumaloligirl/pseuds/Akumaloligirl
Summary: It hurts to much to go on anymore, so Cierra decides to end it. Note: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I was sick so the writing is very shoddy.





	Roasting In the Oven of War

She remained perfectly still as he pulled the blankets off and slipped out of the bed. She kept her breath held in her lungs, even as they burned with the need to breathe, and simply listened to the sound of his heavy footsteps walk away from the bed. The cling of the knotted up condom hitting the metal trash bin just inside her door.  
Cierra stayed still. Even after she could no longer hear his fat, bulbous body shuffling over the cold floorboards. And silence reigned in the house. Her father left her bed, leaving her more broken than ever. And eventually her breath stuttered out and she turned on her side.  
There was nothingness prickling the backs of her eyelids. A static greyness that sparked under her fingertips. Her head went fuzzy and figures danced behind her shut eyes. The spectrum of the rainbow did a rain dance, wavering and wriggling just for her viewing pleasure. It distracted her from the stickiness seeping out between her legs and the sharp pain that rapped through her with every deep breath and movement.  
Her eyes were dry and she turned slowly, careful not to make jarring movements. Pain inspired hate and hate inspired pain. The more Roderrick hurt her, the more she hated him. The more she hated her brother, the more it hurt her.  
"I'm weak," she'd say. Screaming within her own head. Unable to do anything to stop it. "Useless and disgusting because you don't stop it."  
"I'm afraid," she'd argue against herself.  
"No one will care."  
"No one does care."  
"You really think that Mom hasn't figured it out? Don't be stupid, Cierra. She can see the condoms in the trash. And Rodderrick doesn't hide the way he looks at you. The way he Leeds when you walk by, lip curled just slightly to show off his wolf-like teeth."  
"Mom doesn't know. She wouldn't let me be hurt like this."  
A demon crawled out from under and caressed Cierra's hair, whimpering into her neck, soothing little sounds of pain. It's leg was twisted; broken beyond repair. Much like her. She was broken. And would not be fixed.  
The demon comforted her but the muted emotions she'd been bashing against her skull were pounding at her. Out out out out. They wanted out. Tearing their claws into her, sipping at her heart and flesh.  
Pain. The first time hard flesh slid into unyielding heat. And a scream. "Stop, please." Murmured into a pillow someone stuffed into her face. A gritty, "Sheddup," in response.  
Humiliation. Having to sit next to him at the table. Stare into his eyes knowing it was going to happen yet again that very night. Mom would flit about the table trying to make sure everyone got equal amount of mashed potatoes and yet Cierra was trying not to cry into her plate under Rodderrick's stare.  
"What's the point?" Cierra mumbled to the demon caressing her shoulders. "Maybe mom knows. Maybe she doesn't. Dad's gone. Dead. Buried six feet under. Not like he could help me now. 'M broken, redlegs. Sharp pieces an' all."  
"No point," the redlegs burbled, sharp fingertips running softly over goose-raised flesh.  
"Yeah," she agreed with a quiet sniff.  
Now she lifted Herself from beneath a blanket, Elsa and Anna smiling blankly at her. It wasn't enough. She was no princess. No guards protected her. She was alone. All alone.  
Redlegs trailed after her softly, silently. A specter in the night. She went down the hall. Alone. All alone. The demon watching. And went into her mother's room.  
Mom couldn't sleep for years. Finally went to a doctor. Diagnosed an insomniac and a prescription later she was cured. With quiet fingers, the pills were purloined. And the whole bottle swallowed. Then she tiptoed back to her room and laid in bed. Waiting to die.  
"Goodbye," she said as she turned on her side and closed her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing a psychological breakdown, which is why this ficlet is all over the place. And why I mentioned demons and monsters.


End file.
